


Sick Drabbles

by Pineprin137



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean really hates flying, Food Poisoning, Hangover, Neglectful John Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Vomiting, i guess, motion sickness?, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Just a few drabbles that I felt like posting.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few drabbles that I felt like posting.

_ Huuuuurrrkkk! _

Dean pitched forward, spewing more vomit into the toilet bowl. Sam winced from his spot in the doorway. 

“I h--” the older man got cut off by a rough gag “--hate you…” 

Sam cringed, “Dean, I said I was sorry. It’s not like I meant to give you food poisoning!” 

Dean was too busy vomiting to reply so he simply flipped his brother off. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How 'bout a little sick Sammy to break up the monotony?

“ _ Hey, Dean?”  _

Dean raised his head off his pillow and squinted into the darkness. Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed. Dean frowned at him and rolled over so he faced his brother, “Sammy? What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t  _ -ulp- _ feel so good…” 

Warning bells rang in Dean’s head and he quickly slid from the bed. He grabbed Sam’s hand in his and then led the younger boy across the hall and into the bathroom. Thank God for multitasking, Dean thought as he lifted the lid and helped his brother to his knees. 

Sam rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face as the sick feeling grew. 

Dean crouched behind his little brother and rested his hand on Sam’s back, “Aw, Sammy. I know it sucks, but once it’s over, you can go back to bed.” 

“Pr--” Sam swallowed thickly and leaned over the bowl, “Promise?” 

Dean sighed and ruffled his brother’s hair, “Promise.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's around 16. Sam is 12.

Dean blinked against the bright light, groaning. A deep chuckle came from the driver’s seat, “How’re you feeling, son?” 

“Dad?” 

“Who else? Don’t worry, Sammy’s here too.” 

God, his mouth tasted awful and it was so fucking dry! Dean pushed himself up from the worn black leather. His head swam and the Impala’s interior swirled around him. He moaned and buried his throbbing head in his hands.

“Dean! You’re up! Guess what! While you were sleepin’, me and Dad stopped at a Dunkin Donuts! I’ve never been to one of those! Dad let me try some coffee! It was gross and I almost puked! We got you these!” Sam’s pubescent voice hurt Dean’s sensitive ears and he covered his head with his arms. 

“Are you hungry?” Sam asked loudly and thrust a paper bag under the hungover teen’s nose. The sharp smell of sausage and greasy eggs turned Dean’s stomach. He snatched the bag from Sam and quickly dumped the contents on the floor. 

“Dean?” Sammy asked, a concerned frown on his face.

“Not on the floor!” John yelled as he watched his eldest son’s face pale and his cheeks puff out. 

Dean held the bag to his mouth and puked. 


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of vomiting coming from the motel bathroom ceased and Sam sighed from his spot on the bed. There was a flush and then a low pained groan. 

Sam peered around his laptop, “You going to survive?” 

A shaky _‘ok’_ sign appeared in the doorway. Sam chuckled and shook his head. 

Dean moaned, “ _I’m_ _ never eating rhubarb again…”  _

“You think it was the pie?” 

_ “Oh God--”  _ Sam heard Dean scramble up from the floor and then the sound of Dean purging his guts recommenced. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't technically a drabble, but I'm still posting it here.

“C’ mon, Sammy! It’ll be fun!” Dean called out to his little brother, racing toward the carnival rides. 

Sam sighed heavily and cast a worried glance at the Tilt-A-Whirl on his right. Just looking at it made him feel queasy… 

The Merry-Go-Round seemed like a much safer bet, but Dean was dead set on riding all of them. 

On the way there, Dean had argued that they may never get a chance like this again.  _ “We have to take full advantage while we can, Sammy.” _

So, now, here they were. Five dollars in their pockets and smiles on their faces while they walked through the crowded fairgrounds. Dean flirted with every girl along the midway while Sam tasted a few deep-fried treats (which he gave to Dean to finish). 

The Winchester boys rarely had the chance to enjoy freedom and they were going to milk it as long as they could. 

It had taken them three full days of begging to convince John to let them go to the traveling fair. And, while they had invited him to join, John instead opted to head out on a hunt a few towns over. He would be back tomorrow, so this was Sam and Dean’s only night to enjoy the fair.

When Sam finally caught up to his brother, Dean was standing at the back of the line for a large roller coaster. Sam glared at the giant mechanical deathtrap, his stomach feeling unsettled after all the fried foods. “I don’t know, Dean-- It seems like a bad idea…” 

“Don’t be such a wuss, Sammy!” Dean said, tossing his arm over Sam’s shoulders. “It’ll be fun!” 

Dean was right, it was fun-- so much fun in fact that Sam insisted they not only ride it  _ again _ but also tick a few more rides off of their list as well. 

The look on his little brother’s face was worth the bellyache and depleted savings. The smile plastered on Sammy’s face as he dragged Dean toward the dreaded Tilt-O-Whirl was downright infectious. 

Once they got  _ off _ the ride, however…

_“Alright, Sammy…_ _I gotcha,_ ” Dean murmured, rubbing Sam’s back while the younger boy hunched over one of the large trash bins along the fairway. 

Sam groaned, his stomach gurgling loudly as it prepared to force up another mouthful of its contents. “I can’t believe I puked on the ride…” 

“I’m sure you’re not the first-- and you definitely won’t be the last.” 

“Yeah, but it was so embarrassing!” 

Sam ducked his head to retch, Dean smoothed his long bangs back with one hand and held him steady with the other. When he was finished getting sick, Dean handed him the bandana in his back pocket to clean up then hugged Sam close to his side. 

“Don’t worry, Sammy. Two days from now, the fair will be over and I’m sure within a week, we’ll be gone. Wherever we end up, nobody will have any idea you tossed your carnival cookies.” 

Sam smiled up at his big brother. “Thanks, Dean.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Dean shouldered the men’s room door open and -ignoring the disgusted stares of the other ‘gentlemen’ in the room- he beelined for the sink. Warm beer and soggy nachos splattered noisily onto the stained porcelain. 

With a sick burp, he puked again. 

“Dean?” Sam called out as he entered the rapidly retreating room. He caught sight of his brother hunched over the sink and walked over to him, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Jesus, dude. The hell did you eat?” he asked, grimacing at the chunky vomit filling the basin. 

He was instantly grateful Dean had decided to empty the contents of his stomach here and not at the motel. Either way, the clogged pipes wouldn’t be their problem, but at the motel, Sam would have to clean up.

After a few aborted heaves, Dean flipped the faucet lever to rinse out his mouth. He slowly straightened, one hand on his still-churning stomach. He didn’t even bother grabbing a paper towel to wipe his mouth off instead, he used his jacket sleeve. 

“Oh, dude, that’s gross,” Sam commented, shaking his head. “Could you at least pretend to be a civilized human being?” 

Dean gave him a hard look. 

Sam sighed. “Can we go now? Or are you gonna spew again?” he asked his brother warily. He glanced down at Dean’s hand on his belly. 

Dean quickly dropped it to hang at his side before he huffed, “Shut up. Let’s go.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for you, chanelle! Hope it fits what you had in mind.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“It’s fine, Cas. I just need a minute is all.” As soon as he finished speaking, Dean doubled over to vomit into the grass. 

He hated flying Angel Air. 

Cas waited patiently until Dean was done then pulled out a pack of travel-sized tissues from the pocket of his trenchcoat. He offered them to Dean. 

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled before wiping his chin off. He straightened up and took a small sip of water. 

“How many more do we have?” he asked, dreading the answer. 

Cas frowned. “Four.” When Dean’s face paled, he added, “Perhaps it would be a good idea to head back to the motel and pick up tomorrow when Sam has returned?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean said. He shrugged his shoulders, shook out his hands, and blew out a puff of air. “Okay,” he said, steeling himself, “Let’s go.” 

Cas reached out to touch his shoulder and Dean instinctively scrunched his eyes closed. But he peeked out of one to address the angel, “Just-- Maybe try to aim for a bathroom this time…?”

Cas smiled and nodded. 

With a whoosh of air, they disappeared. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John may not be the best father, but he does have his moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is for chanelle. 
> 
> Writing "Loving, caring John" is hard for me since he wasn't really depicted that way on the show, but chanelle asked for it, so this is what I came up with. 
> 
> If y'all have more requests or prompts, please leave them in the comments! This was challenging but also super fun! I would love to do more.

Dean started feeling bad shortly after he got back from the bar. He was sweating bullets under his henley as he sat at the table with his dad, going over the plan for tomorrow. 

“We’ll start here, near the entrance of the cave, and then fan out. Surely, someone in these houses-” John paused to draw a large red circle around a small section of the suburban neighborhood, “--has seen something.” He looked up to find Dean with his eyes closed and sighed. “Am I boring you?” He sat back in his chair to regard his eldest son with a stern look. 

Dean flinched when John raised his voice. “No, sir,” he said, gulping sickly. His stomach was swirling ominous and he knew he should probably head to the room’s tiny bathroom sooner rather than later if he wanted to save any of his dignity. 

“Then why don’t you pay attention so I don’t have to go over this again in the morning.” John’s voice dared him to disobey, but with an abrupt gag, Dean stood and ran for the bathroom. 

Miserable, sweat slicking his skin as he hunched over the ancient crapper, Dean groaned as his insides cramped and he lurched forward to expel another mouthful of vomit into the bowl. He barely managed a shallow breath before he was sick again. 

“How much did you have to drink?” 

His dad’s appearance was so unexpected Dean jumped. 

John had never been the warm and fuzzy type. Even when Dean was a kid, Mary had been the one to soothe achy tummies and feverish dreams. John didn’t avoid it, per se, he just… wasn’t ever sure what to do. Mary was made to be a mom, but John, well, John was made to be a soldier. 

“One beer,” Dean said before ducking his head to cough over the dirty water. 

“Think it was something you ate?” John continued, taking a hesitant step into the bathroom. 

Sick kids were still a mostly-foreign thing to him as Mary had taken point whenever Dean got sick as a toddler and Dean took care of Sam while he was out on hunts. Grieving Mary’s death had taken over and the boys had become a nuisance during his hunt for Yellow-Eyes, but maybe he could make up for it now? 

It was obvious Dean hadn’t just overdone it with the whiskey tonight-- this was more than that. The kid looked miserable. 

“Pro’lly,” Dean mumbled. He was starting to feel exhausted from the continued emesis. And he missed Sam. His brother always played nursemaid whenever Dean was sick and even though he pretended to hate it, they both knew it meant the world to Dean. 

With a quick nod, John departed and Dean let his head drop. Typical. If Sammy so much as had a hangnail, John would be right there with tweezers and a bandaid, but Dean got food poisoning and he’s seen as a bother. 

Like he meant to eat some rancid piece of meatloaf on purpose? Who the hell would actually do that?! 

But at this point in his life, Dean was used to it. It was up to him to take care of him--

Dean’s thoughts stalled when John re-entered the bathroom and draped a blanket over his shoulders. A pillow was set on the floor before John leaned down to kiss the crown of Dean’s head. 

“Try to get some rest, son.” 

Dean was floored. Never--Not once in the twenty-one years since Mom died had his dad  _ ever _ comforted him when he was sick. When he was a little kid, John grudgingly accepted that kids get sick and adjusted their schedule accordingly, but he never camped out in the bathroom with Dean or sang him back to sleep after a nightmare. 

John left as quickly as he came, so Dean didn’t even have the chance to mumble a shocked thank you. 

Several times throughout the night, however, he found evidence of his dad having been there. Damp washcloths, a change of clothes left on the counter, various glasses of water or sports drink. And when Dean awoke screaming for Sam, John was the one to hold him while he cried and hum until Dean finally exhausted himself. 

In the morning, Dean was shaky and gross, but the worst of the food poisoning was out of his system so he joined his dad at the table. 

John didn’t look up from the notebook he was scribbling in. “Good?” he asked, simple and matter-of-fact. 

“Uh, yeah.” Dean looked down at the peeling table. “Hey, Dad?” 

John grunted, but he raised his eyes to peer at his son. 

Dean blushed like a school-girl and chewed his bottom lip. “Just, uh… thanks.” He risked a glance at his dad and found John staring at him. 

A smile teased John’s lips before he schooled his expression back into a mask of indifference. “Get your stuff together. We leave in ten.” 

  
Dean snorted softly as he gathered up his crap and shoved it into his duffle. 

_ Well, it was nice while it lasted.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> And, chanelle, I'd love to write some more, so please feel free to keep requesting ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I think I have a sickfic problem... Send help.


End file.
